Harry Potter and the Return of Lily and James
by Anne Spinner
Summary: Harry's parents return for his sixth year at Hogwarts.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1

Harry Potter sat on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window of his bedroom at number four, Privet Drive. The sunny, bright, cheerful weather was a complete contrast to his miserable mood. His summers with the Dursleys were always the farthest possible thing from fun, but this one in particular seemed extremely boring. He didn't mind too much, however, because ever since the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, nothing seemed to have any importance, except the pain of Sirius's death and the knowledge that it was all Harry's fault.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, had tried to tell Harry that it was in fact Dumbledore's fault, and not Harry's, but Harry knew deep down that the blame rested on himself. Everyone had warned him that Voldemort would try to deceive him, but the vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius had been too much for Harry to bear.

Harry sighed and dropped his head into his hands, wishing, as he had so many times before, that he could have a normal life.

Distantly, Harry could hear a door opening downstairs. Harry assumed that Dudley had just come home, but he changed his mind when he heard Uncle Vernon growl, "What the devil is going on here?! No one gave you permission to enter my house!"

Harry heard someone else say something, and then he heard a loud thud and his Aunt Petunia shriek, "Vernon!" then, "_What did you do to him_?!"

Harry leapt up, and rushed down the stairs and into the hall, where a hooded person was pointing a wand at Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon lay on the floor, eyes closed. Harry threw himself in front of Aunt Petunia and shouted, "Protego!" just a man's voice cried from under the person's hood, "Stupefy!"

Harry's shield deflected the Stunning Spell, and the man under the hood said smoothly, "What's this, Potter? Acting the hero again?"

Harry didn't recognize the voice; it was medium-pitched and slightly hoarse. When Harry registered the words the man had spoken, he felt the pain of Sirius's death wash over him again. If he had listened to Hermione, and if he had listened when they told him that Voldemort would try to trick him, Sirius would be alive.

The Death Eater took advantage of the effect his words had had upon Harry and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry dove on top of Aunt Petunia so that the both of them fell to the floor, narrowly missing the green light of the killing curse.

Harry was back on his feet in an instant, but before he could get his wand at the ready, the hooded man shouted, "Stupefy!"

Harry frantically threw his wand hand out in front of him and shouted, "Protego!" as quickly as he could, but the shield wasn't strong enough. The spell went through it, and hit Harry's chest. The shield had weakened it, so it didn't stun him—it only knocked him down. He put his left arm out behind him to try to break the fall, but instead, he heard a nasty crack, felt a sharp, terrible pain in his arm, and his arm collapsed.

He still tightly held onto his wand with his right hand, but before anything else could happen, two loud cracks were heard upstairs, and a couple distant voices called, "Harry?"

Though Harry couldn't quite make out who they were, he knew that whoever was there wasn't there to harm him, because the Death Eater cursed and Disapparated.

Harry looked at Aunt Petunia, who hadn't moved from her position on the floor. She stared at him, looking quite terrified. Harry jerked his head at Uncle Vernon. "Is he breathing?"

"Yes."

"What spell did he do?" Harry asked her.

"How am I supposed to know?" snapped Aunt Petunia.

"Just tell me what he said."

"The same thing he said to you," Aunt Petunia said. "Something like 'stupefy.' Why?"

Harry raised his wand and said, "Back away from him."

Instinctively, Aunt Petunia moved closer to Uncle Vernon. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to wake him up," Harry said with annoyance. "Now move!"

Aunt Petunia hesitated, then obliged as Harry held out his wand even father. Harry pointed his wand at Uncle Vernon and muttered, "_Ennervate_."

Uncle Vernon opened his eyes, blinked, and sat up.

"Vernon?" said Aunt Petunia.

Uncle Vernon looked around as though confused. Then his eyes focused on Harry and narrowed. Harry could hear footsteps hurrying down the stairs now, and his uncle's face was becoming more purple by the second, but none of that mattered, because doing the counter-spell for the stunner while living with the pain in his arm had drained his energy, and he just didn't care. The room spun around him, and then he fell into darkness.

"Harry."

A voice was calling his name. Harry wished it wouldn't, because he was tired, and he wanted to sleep.

"_Harry_," the voice called again, more insistently this time. Harry wanted to tell the voice to be quiet, because his scar ached, and maybe if he slept he could ignore it.

"Leave me alone," Harry mumbled. "I'm trying to sleep…"

"Harry, wake up!" said another voice.

Just before Harry opened his eyes, he realized who the people speaking were. They were the same people he'd heard upstairs. These voices had haunted his dreams. Harry didn't want to open his eyes, because he was afraid of seeing the faces that belonged to those voices, the faces that had haunted his dreams as well. But he knew he must, so Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Lily and James Potter.

**James Potter had searched for so long, after finally regaining his memory. He and Lily had traveled to Godric's Hollow in the vain hope that someone had rebuilt it, but, of course, they hadn't. There was nothing but a ruin of a house, and the terrible memory of what had happened there fifteen years ago. He and his wife had been killed by Lord Voldemort, and he had left his son there. He had died first, so he hadn't known what happened afterward, but when Lily regained her memory, she had told him that she had died before seeing what happened to Harry. So they had left their son there, to die in that ruin of a house. They had left him at the hands of Lord Voldemort.**

**They had been more than devastated when they realized what had almost certainly happened. As James pulled Lily close to him, he noticed a newspaper that was blowing across the ground in the wind. James froze in the act of putting his arms around Lily when he saw what was on the front page. There was a large picture of a very familiar face. In fact, James could have said that the photo was of himself, had there not been a vivid, lightning-shaped scar in the middle of the person's forehead. Looking at this picture, James would have bet anything that if the photo had not been black and white, it would have shown the eyes as a brilliant, emerald green.**

**"Lily," James whispered hoarsely, his face a mixture of shock and desperate hope. Lily looked up at him, and then turned and followed his gaze over to the newspaper. Lily sucked in her breath sharply and whispered, "Is it… could it be…"**

**"I don't know," James replied softly. "But I hope more than anything it is." He took a deep breath and slowly walked over to the newspaper. He was afraid to look for fear of it saying that Harry had died. But he forced himself to pick it up and read the article. The headline read:**

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

**James wondered if this had anything to do with Harry and he began to read the article.**

**In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more.**

**"It is with great regret that the wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I mean –- is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors…"**

**James began skimming. He didn't care about Voldemort at the moment; he only wanted to know whether or not his son was alive. He scanned the article, ignoring most of the info, until he saw something that said:**

**Meanwhile the Boy Who Lived —**

**James's heart skipped a beat. Perhaps "the Boy Who Lived" was referring to Harry! If Harry's picture was on the front of the newspaper, he must have survived Voldemort when he was a baby, so maybe that's why he was called the Boy Who Lived! James quickly read on.**

**Meanwhile, the Boy Who Lived has also been insisting that You-Know-Who has returned. We have heard from several sources that when Harry Potter—**

**James gasped with excitement.**

**"Lily, he's alive!" he cried happily. "Harry's alive!"**

**Lily, who had had her back turned to him because she was afraid of what the paper might say, suddenly spun around and snatched the newspaper from James's grasp. She quickly scanned the article and then dropped the paper, tears pouring down her cheeks.**

**"He's alive, James," she whispered, and the relief in her voice was almost too much for James to bear. "Our son is still alive!"**

**James was filled with joyous relief, and he grabbed Lily and pulled her close. Her arms went around his neck, and they held each other until they had both calmed down enough to think straight.**

**After that, finding Harry wasn't very difficult. Lily and James cast Invisibility Spells on themselves and then simply Apparated into Diagon Alley. Once they were there, they had no problem. There were whispers following them wherever they went.**

**"I heard the Boy Who Lived is staying with Muggles again."**

**James and Lily were holding each other's hands to keep from losing each other while they were invisible, and at these words, James felt Lily's hand suddenly squeeze his harder.**

**"Yes, with his mother's family."**

**Lily's hand was shaking now. James squeezed it gently.**

**"What's that family's name again?"**

**"I dunno… all I know is that they live somewhere in Little Whinging…"**

**James pulled Lily into the nearest shop and over to an area where there was no one standing near enough to hear them.**

**"Do you know where Little Whinging is?" he asked her.**

**"I… have a general idea," Lily said. "It's about fifty kilometers to the east of the house I grew up in."**

**James knew where her old house was, so he said, "Let's go," and they Apparated into a street on which everything looked so orderly it was maddening.**

**"Now what do we do?" asked Lily. "We probably should have waited to try to find out more. We're in Little Whinging, but where are we supposed to go now?"**

**"I don't know," said James. "Well, we can always wander around and see if we hear Harry's name anywhere."**

**"I suppose," said Lily doubtfully. Just then, voices were heard behind them.**

**"So what's the Potter boy been up to, Dud?"**

**James couldn't believe their luck. He and Lily turned around to see a group of very large boys walking down the sidewalk toward them.**

**"I dunno," the biggest one replied. "He's been hiding in his room, mostly. Some of his friends'll probably come and get him soon. They usually do after about a month."**

**"I wish I could get the chance to smash his stupid face in again!" one of the others said. James scowled, but since he was invisible, no one knew. Lily and James stood out of the way as the group of boys passed. When the boys reached the end of the block, the biggest one turned and said suddenly, "Let's go this way. I don't want my mum and dad to see me." He jerked his head at one of the square houses of Privet Drive before walking off in the other direction.**

**When they were out of earshot, James said to Lily, his voice barely containing his excitement, "Lily… I think we've found him. If I heard right, that big boy is living in the same house as Harry. And since he indicated which house was his…"**

**"Oh, James," cried Lily. "We've found our son!"**

**"Which room should we try first?" James asked.**

**"Er… that one," she said, pointing to one of the windows on the second floor.**

**"Okay," said James. "Ready?"**

**Lily nodded, and they both Apparated into that room. James's heart leapt when he looked around the room. The desk was cluttered with quills, ink, blank parchment, and… an empty owl cage.**

**"Lily, this is it!" James whispered happily.**

**"I think we should take the invisibility spells off," said Lily, and then they both did.**

**"Harry?" said James cautiously. There was no answer. Lily called Harry's name too.**

**Quite suddenly, they heard a violent curse and then the CRACK of someone Disapparating. They sounded as though they were coming from downstairs. Lily and James looked at each other. Someone was Disapparating in a Muggle house. Harry wasn't old enough to Disapparate. What was going on? They both crept to the door and listened.**

**"Is he breathing?" said a voice.**

**"I think that's Harry," Lily murmured.**

**"Yes," said another voice.**

**"_That's_ Petunia," said Lily, scowling. Then, quite suddenly, Lily's eyes filled. "Oh, lord," she said. "Petunia hated my guts. If Harry grew up with her…" She buried her face in her hands and whispered, "I can only imagine what she'll have put him through."**

**James put his arm around her and muttered, "Don't think about that. Don't think about what he'll have gone through. Think about what's going to happen. Think about the fact that Harry will have his real family back."**

**Lily raised her head and said, "He's not going to believe we're real, you know. And it'll be really hard for him to see us, after so many years of being told that we're dead."**

**"I know," said James. "But we'll _make_ him believe. Somehow."**

**Lily nodded, and tipped her head to listen downstairs again.**

**"_Ennervate_," they heard Harry's voice say.**

**"Let's go," said James. He and Lily walked through the hall and began descending the stairs. When they had almost reached the bottom, they heard a thud. It sounded as though something heavy had just been dropped on the floor.**

**"What the…" grunted a man's voice. "Petunia…?"**

**"Vernon, I… I think he's just passed out."**

**James flung the door open and he and Lily entered the room. Petunia screamed, and Vernon got off the floor as quickly as his heavy body would permit. They backed into the wall, both very pale. "Lily," whispered Petunia, "I thought… you were dead…"**

**"And you wish I still am dead, I'm sure," said Lily coldly, and turned to look at Harry. James did the same, slowly turning his head to look at his son for the first time in fifteen years.**

**Lily grabbed James's arm as tears began to pour down her face. They both fell to their knees upon seeing their son. He was thin, way too thin, and his face was as white as paper. His jet-black hair stuck up at the back, just like James's did, and in the middle of his forehead was a vivid, lightning-shaped scar, just as the newspaper photograph had portrayed. There was something different from the photo, though — he looked as if his arm was broken. Lily and James crawled forward until they were kneeling at his side. Lily reached out and gently touched Harry's cheek. Petunia and Vernon took advantage of them leaving the door and rushed out of the room as fast as possible. James gently shook his son and said, "Harry."**

**Harry didn't move. James tried again, more insistently, "_Harry_."**

**This time, Harry shifted and murmured, "Leave me alone. I'm trying to sleep."**

**"Harry, wake up!" said Lily. Harry shifted again, and after a moment, his eyes slowly opened. His eyelids revealed bright green eyes that were nearly the same as Lily's. Except they weren't the same. There was something else in them, a haunted look, a look that said he carried a terrible burden. They stared into each other's eyes for a full minute.**

**Then Harry suddenly began backing away. His face formed into an expression of pure horror. He crawled backward on the floor using his good arm for support until he could get up without having to touch them, and then he jumped to his feet. He instantly pulled out his wand with his good arm and pointed it at them. He was shaking violently, and it was obvious that he was in terrible pain because of his arm.**

**James didn't try to defend himself. Tears were still pouring steadily down Lily's cheeks, and James felt his own eyes fill. He had finally found his son… and now his son was threatening him with a wand. James had expected this, but it didn't make it any easier to see his son stare at him with such hate and horror. He tried to appear calm as he slowly stood up.**

Harry was in shock. He felt as though he might pass out again. The pain of his broken arm was temporarily forgotten as he stared at the faces of his parents. This could not be happening. He had been told ever since that day he had woken up on his aunt's doorstep that his parents were dead. Yet there they were, standing in front of him. After what he had done to Sirius, he couldn't bear to look at them. He felt like he was going to explode; he couldn't handle this. The prophecy had said that only Voldemort could kill him, but Harry felt that he could die just from looking at these faces.

After a moment, Harry came to his senses and remembered that they couldn't really be his parents. His parents were dead. His first thought after he remembered this was to wonder why Voldemort would do something like this, and how. But then… if Voldemort had planned this, why had the Death Eater Disapparated? If this was Voldemort's new tactic of trying to weaken him, why hadn't the Death Eater stayed to enjoy the sight of him being tortured?

Harry tried to focus on these things and to keep his mind clear, but he couldn't, and he instead kept thinking about how familiar that man's face was, and how green the women's eyes were. He had to remind himself that these people were _not _his parents. Then suddenly, with a rush of guilt about Sirius and about causing the deaths of his parents, nausea overcame him, and he rushed to the door. The feeling returned in his broken arm when he started moving, and he tried his best to ignore the sharp pains that accompanied the constant throbbing. He flung the door open with his good arm and emptied his stomach, barely avoiding Aunt Petunia's well-kept begonias.

"Harry!" he heard the voice of his mother call. Except it wasn't his mother. His mother was dead, and so was his father. They had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort, and Harry felt absolute disgust at people who would try to imitate them.

Harry leaned against the house, trying to stop the trembling that had seized him. He concentrated on breathing deeply. He knew that he needed to calm down and show them that they weren't going to make him break down. But his concentration was broken when he realized that they were standing just outside the door, watching him. His hand tightened on the thin wooden wand that had never left his grasp. He pointed it at them, but his hand was shaking so badly that he'd probably have missed any curse that he attempted.

"Harry," said the woman. "Please… are you all right?"

"Get away." His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it was clearly audible in the peaceful silence of the setting sun. Harry, however, was feeling far from peaceful. The words of his mother — no, that wasn't his mother, he reminded himself — kept echoing through his mind. Her voice sounded frightened — but not as frightened as it had sounded when he had been forced to hear her last living moments.

"Harry," said the woman again. "I know that this has got to be hard for you to believe —"

"You know nothing," said Harry snapped. The pain in his arm had dulled to a steady ache.

"Harry, how much do you know about me?" the man asked.

"Nothing," said Harry coldly. "I don't know who you are; therefore I know nothing about you."

He watched at the man's eyes filled. "Harry, I'm your father," he whispered.

"You have the _face_ of my father," Harry said quietly. "Faces mean nothing. Past experience has taught me this."

"Past experience?" James repeated. "Like what?"

"You know very well what," snapped Harry.

James sighed. Then he said, "What can I do to prove to you that I really am your father? I can tell you anything… like that Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I made the Marauder's Map while we were at Hogwarts and we used it at night so we knew when people were close enough to catch us. And Sirius, Peter, and I became Animagi because Remus was a werewolf, and that's how we came up with Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Now would a Death Eater know that?"

"Yes," said Harry simply. "Since Peter works for Voldemort, he'll have told them all about that, and I _know_ he's told them all about that, because last year Sirius went to King's Cross Station as Padfoot with us and Lucius Malfoy spotted him and recognized him as Sirius. Now would you just quit trying to pretend that you're my parents, because I'm not stupid enough to believe that!"

"Hang on," said James suddenly. "Why would Sirius go as Padfoot?"

Harry swallowed and tried not to think about that time. Sirius had been alive. Harry knew he had been so stupid, not appreciating what he had. He should have spent as much time as possible with Sirius, he shouldn't have told Sirius to be careful and stay hidden. Now he was not only guilty of causing Sirius to die. He was also guilty of making Sirius miserable _until_ he died.

"Hang on," said James again. "When we switched to Peter instead of him, we didn't tell anyone, not even Dumbledore or Remus. So when Peter betrayed us… no one will have known that it was really him. They'd all…" He paused, looking worried, and then continued, "They'd all have blamed Sirius instead." Then, with a look of dread, he asked, "Is that why Sirius is on the run?"

The present-tense 'is' made Harry's stomach clench. "You know very well why he's been on the run, and what's happened to him," he spat.

Slowly, James shook his head as his expression changed from worry to confusion to concern. Lily looked concerned too, and she said, "What's going on?"

Harry knew that it was impossible for his parents to actually be here. He knew they were dead. The fact that his parents were dead was the one thing that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had not lied to him about. But could Death Eaters really fake looks like that? Something about them, their sincerity and pure concern, told him that these were not Death Eaters. But hadn't he himself just said a minute ago that faces meant nothing?

"Harry," said James finally. "What can I do to prove to you that I really am your father?"

Harry stared at the man, trying to think of something that only his father would know. But he could think of nothing that Wormtail wouldn't know, too. Then it hit him.

"Change into your Animagus form," he said.

James began to smile. "That's it," he said softly. "In less than a minute, Harry, you'll know who we truly are." He frowned suddenly and asked, "I'm not trying to discourage you from trusting us, Harry, but how would you know _exactly_ what my Animagus form looks like? I'm not the only stag in the world."

Harry's first reaction to this was to wonder whether the man was avoiding the transformation. As his broken arm suddenly throbbed painfully he said through gritted teeth, "I'll explain that after you transform."

**James felt relief coursing throughout his body. The moment had nearly come when Harry would truly see his parents. Watching Harry's eyes, he knew that Harry didn't believe he was looking at his parents. And until he did, he wouldn't truly see them. "That's it," James said softly, and he felt excitement at knowing that he could soon begin repairing his relationship with his son. "In less than a minute, Harry, you'll know who we truly are."**

**James kind of wished that Harry had simply believed him when he had said all of those things about the Marauder's Map, because it would have made things much easier. But James also couldn't help feeling pride in his son: Harry could obviously take care of himself, and he wasn't stupid. As he thought about that, he saw a flaw in his son's ideas.**

**"I'm not trying to discourage you from trusting us, Harry," he said, "but how would you know _exactly_ what my Animagus form looks like? I'm not the only stag in the world."**

**Harry was silent for a moment. Then quite suddenly, he winced slightly, and his face grew whiter, if possible. Then he said through gritted teeth as though he was in pain, "I'll explain that after you transform." James took a brief moment to think that the sooner Harry trusted him, the better, and then he made the transformation that had become second nature to him. He remained a stag for only a split second before returning to his natural form.**

**James anxiously watched Harry's face as it changed from an expression of disgust and disbelief to one of shock and amazement.**

**"I don't believe it," Harry whispered. "It's really you." He seemed to be telling himself more than James.**

**His voice cracking, James replied, "Yes, Harry. It's really me."**

**James's eyes filled again as he watched Harry turn to Lily.**

**"And you…" said Harry, "you're really my mum."**

**Lily looked incapable of speaking. Tears were flowing down her cheeks again and her lips were trembling. She swallowed hard and nodded.**

**There was a strange look in his son's brilliant green eyes — one that said he was barely daring to hope that what was going on was real. Then Harry said flatly, "This is a dream."**

**James closed his eyes as disappointment stabbed his heart. He knew that there was nothing more he could do. If Harry refused to believe them after what he had shown him, he never would believe them.**

**"But," Harry said, and something in his voice made James open his eyes again, "even if it is only a dream, I'm going to enjoy every possible moment of this, because who knows how long it will last."**

**James's heart rose again. He had never felt happier. Previous memories of winning Quidditch games, annoying Snape, playing pranks on McGonagall, winning the house cup, getting top grades on O.W.L.'s, and all other things he had felt fully happy with were forgotten; all he knew then was that his son was standing in front of him and his son was going to trust him. And after waiting for so long, after having been separated for so long, no feeling he could remember had ever felt that wonderful.**

**Lily was now breathing deeply, trying to control herself, to no effect. Quite suddenly, she launched herself forward and threw her arms around Harry. At first, Harry looked genuinely shocked. He looked as if nothing like that had ever happened before. And, James reflected sadly, it probably hadn't.**

As he felt his mother's arms around him, Harry suddenly remembered being in the hospital wing after having witnessed Voldemort's return. He remembered Mrs. Weasley putting her arms around him in almost the same fashion. He remembered that feeling he'd had. He'd never felt anything like that before; he'd never felt the embrace of someone who loved him. That brief hug in the hospital wing had felt as close to motherly love as he'd ever felt. And even then, the best thing he'd had, it wasn't quite right. He knew how much Mrs. Weasley cared about him; she'd said herself that she cared for him as much as she cared for her own sons. But to Harry, nothing would ever truly replace his mother. And now, with his mother's arms around him, he felt truly content.


	2. Explanation Beginnings

Chapter Two

Explanation Beginnings

"We need to get inside before someone sees," Harry mumbled, letting go after several minutes and leading the way back inside. James pulled the door shut behind the three, and glanced between Lily and Harry uncertainly.

"I'm not sure what to do now," he admitted. "Is there somewhere safe we can go? There's a lot we need to discuss. Lily and I have no idea what's happened in the last fifteen years."

"Well - " Harry began, but was cut off by a sharp rap on the door. Instantly three wands rose to point at the door. "Who is it?" Harry called.

"It is Albus Dumbledore," came the reply. Harry hesitated, and as if Dumbledore sensed it, he added, "Harry, I am the Secret-Keeper for the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and I revealed its location to you on a scrap of parchment. A month ago, we discussed the contents of a prophecy in my office after you threw and destroyed several magical instruments there."

"You did what?" Lily whispered. Harry didn't answer, feeling embarrassed - he went and opened the door to the headmaster of Hogwarts school, wincing as his broken left arm was jostled.

"Hello, sir," he said quietly.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore replied gravely. He stepped inside, his piercing blue eyes surveying the room, stopping when they reached Lily and James. An expression of utter surprise formed on the old wizard's face, an expression which Harry had never seen before on him.

"Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, "can you vouch for these two?"

"Yes," Harry answered nervously. "At least, I'm fairly sure."

"Then we must leave immediately. All explanations can wait," he added, seeing Harry open his mouth. "There is no time to dawdle." He pulled a small, dirty vase from under his cloak. "This is a Portkey. It leaves in -" He checked his watch. " - ten seconds."

Harry, Lily, and James gathered near and each touched the vase, Harry being careful not to let his bad arm touch anything. Moments later, he experienced the familiar sensation of being hooked behind the naval as they began to travel. When they touched ground, Harry's knees buckled and he fell. He bit his lip so hard that it bled to avoid shouting in pain as his broken arm hit the ground.

"Are you all right?" Lily whispered as James bent down to help Harry up.

"I feel wonderful," Harry groaned once he had risen to a standing position.

"Albus, can't we -" Lily began, but Albus held up a hand.

"In a moment. Though I'm sure Harry's injury is painful, I am also sure that the mending process will be much easier than it was the last time he broke an arm." Dumbledore paused, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he gazed at Harry. "Listen, now." He whispered into James's and Lily's ears for a moment, and Harry watched their eyes widen as he knew they were seeing the houses on the street before them shift to make room for another.

"Inside, please," Dumbledore said gravely, and strode toward the newly-formed house, number twelve. The other three followed.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Lily tried again, "Now can we -"

"Don't," Harry whispered urgently. "Don't make any noise if you can help it, not yet."

The four of them crept down the hall and Dumbledore led them up the staircase. Harry forced himself not to think about Sirius as they passed the display of house-elf heads and the curtains which covered the portrait of Sirius's mother. As they stepped onto the first floor, Harry heard a door open further up the staircase. Harry squinted up through the dim light as his best friend, Ron Weasley, poked his head out of a bedroom door.

"Harry!" he shouted, immediately rushing out of the room. Only seconds later, Hermione Granger rushed out behind him.

"Harry, you're here!" she cried, and gasped when she got nearer. "What happened to your arm? Oh, sorry, Professor Dumbledore, we didn't see -" Her voice died. She had spotted Lily and James. Then she shrieked.

Ron turned and put his hands over her mouth, but Hermione's scream continued, barely suppressed at all by the attempt.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed, running up to her and grabbing her shoulder and shaking her with his right arm. "Hermione, you have to shut up, _now!"_

She quieted then, but too late - another voice had begun to wail downstairs.

"FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUGGLE LOVERS, BEFOULING THE HOUSE OF MY ANCESTORS! FILTH, SCUM, DIRT, MUCK -"

All at once the noise stopped. Harry could only assume that someone had managed to shut the curtains over the portrait of Sirius's mother.

"Lily, James, please go into the room on the left there and wait," Dumbledore ordered. James hesitated, looking confused, but Lily placed a hand on his arm, and they left. Harry could hear people coming climbing the stairs. In a moment, about twenty members of the Order of the Phoenix were clustered beneath where he stood.

"Harry, dear," said the voice of Mrs. Weasley, as she nudged her way through the crowd of people. "Did you just arrive? Albus, what is this? Who screamed?"

"Hermione did," answered Harry, because Hermione looked as though she was in no condition to answer.

"Why - ?"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Harry and I need to discuss some things," he told the group standing below. "We will be in the drawing room. I will come and speak to everyone when we have finished. Please do not disturb us until then."

At first no one moved. Finally, with Dumbledore gazing at them over the tops of his half-moon glasses, the people at the bottom of the crowd turned and headed back through the hall, with the others followed. When the last person had disappeared, Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gently directed him toward the drawing room.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, perhaps you had best join us," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling again. "Let us save Harry the trouble of repeating our entire conversation later for the two of you."

Ron finally removed his hands from Hermione's mouth, watching her apprehensively. For a moment Hermione stayed frozen, her mouth slightly open. Then she shut it, looking both confused and embarrassed.

"What is going _on_?" she demanded.

"We're trying to figure that out," said Harry. "Just come on."

Eventually, everyone had taken a seat on the first floor drawing room: Lily, James, Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"To be clear before we begin, you are actually Lily and James Potter?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Lily and James said at once.

"Astounding." Dumbledore paused, then continued, "Harry, perhaps some introductions are in order?"

"Oh," said Harry, who had been breathing deeply while he tried to ignore the throbbing in his arm, "right. Mum, Dad, these are my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

It felt awkward for Harry to say "Mum" and "Dad" that way, but he found that the pain in his arm distracted him from the strangeness of it.

"It's nice to meet you," Lily said quietly. "But I wonder if this might be a conversation that would do better in private?"

"No," Harry said sharply as Hermione made to get up, looking very nervous. "I want them here."

"All - all right," Lily said. "Where do we start?"

"First, I would like to know what occurred at Harry's house on Privet Drive before the two of you arrived there," Dumbledore said.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out all of the confused thoughts that had been rushing through his mind since he first laid eyes on his parents that afternoon. That afternoon, sitting in his bedroom thinking about nothing but Sirius, felt as though it had occurred weeks ago.

"I was in my bedroom, not really doing anything," Harry began. "It was probably about... one o'clock." He relayed the events as he remembered them, up until he woke up to see his parents' faces.

"I don't get it," James said. "Why would Death Eaters come to attack Harry? Surely they've got better things to do?"

"That, I think, is an explanation which will have to wait until later," Dumbledore put in. "Lily, James, if you would be so kind as to tell us what happened before you found Harry? Explain briefly, at least, how you came to be here when everyone who knew you believed you to be dead?"

"It will be very brief," James replied, "because we really haven't any idea ourselves. I - I _think_ that we did die. After all, Voldemort did use the Killing Curse, and we must have disappeared in the wreckage, but... well, neither of us have any memories of any time between then and now. I mean, then and this afternooon."

"So you would say that you have only - "

"Come back?" Harry suggested.

"That will do for the time being. You would say that you have only - come back - today?"

"The last thing I remember before today is Voldemort bursting through the front door," James said, his voice shaking slightly. "Then we were just - there. In Godric's Hollow. And somehow, we knew it had been years since that day. We weren't sure how long, but we knew it had been a long time."

With Lily's help, James described to Dumbledore how they had found the newspaper, disguised themselves, and eventually discovered Harry's whereabouts.

"I've never heard of an Invisibility Spell," said Harry suspiciously when they had finished. He glanced at Hermione, wondering if she had heard of such a spell, and she gave him a tiny smile with a shake of her head.

"Oh, it's just a powerful Disillusionment Charm, really," explained Lily, adding with a smile, "Your father likes to call it an 'Invisibility Spell' because he thinks it sounds grander."

"It does!" James insisted, smiling slightly.

Dumbledore chuckled, and then said, "I wonder if you might be able to estimate the time at which you found yourselves in Godric's Hollow today?"

James glanced at the watch on his wrist before answering, "Noon. Exactly noon."

"The exact moment," Dumbledore whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Sorry?"

Dumbledore did not immediately answer. He stood up, turned his back to them all, and faced the outer wall. Slowly, he raised one hand and made a sweeping motion through the air, as though wiping fog from a window. After a moment, he turned and sat back down.

"After your presumed deaths, Lily and James, I placed a protective charm on the Dursleys' home before bringing Harry there, a charm which relies on the blood tie between Lily and Petunia. As long as Harry called that house home, no enemies could touch him there. He was safe all through his childhood and during summer holidays, whenever he was in the house."

Lily and James both nodded; they had heard of such charms before.

"I have also set up monitoring spells for the charm itself, so that I would know if its protection had weakened or failed. At noon exactly today, the charm vanished."

He paused, and Harry tried to make sense of this information. Was Dumbledore trying to say that the charm stopped working because his parents had returned?

"Unfortunately, I was not in my office when the warnings came. I didn't realize that the spell had broken until nearly two hours later, by which time - "

"A Death Eater had attacked at the house and my - _they_ showed up," Harry finished. He had meant to say _my parents, _but the words had stuck in his throat. He could see that no one had been fooled by his recovery, but thankfully, no one said anything.

"The fact that the charm broke at the exact moment when Lily and James found themselves in Godric's Hollow implies that Lily and James had been dead - otherwise the charm would not have worked - up until noon today, at which point they - for lack of a better expression - _stopped_ being dead."

Dumbledore stood again. "I need to speak with the Order and explain. I think it is best if I do so before they see you," he added as James made to get out of his chair. Dumbledore was nearly out the door when a thought struck Harry.

"Sir?" he said quickly, and Dumbledore paused in the open doorway. "Did you ever tell them about... the prophecy? Before, I mean, before they - "

"No, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "Perhaps I should have, but at the time, keeping all of you alive was the priority. No, the only people who know the true contents are you and I. And, of course, whomever you choose to tell."

Startled, Harry asked, "Do you think it'd be a good idea for me to tell anyone?"

"Well, for those whom you've trusted to tell everything else, why not this?" And with that, Dumbledore left.

There was a long silence. Neither Ron nor Hermione had spoken since they entered the room with Harry, but now Ron spoke up.

"You said the prophecy was smashed," he said accusingly. "Did Dumbledore say you actually _know_ -"

"It _was _smashed," Harry said irritably.

"I'm sorry, what prophecy?" James interrupted.

"You ought to have told us," Ron continued angrily.

"Listen, I'll talk about the prophecy when I want to!" Harry snapped. "I've had a bit of a shock today, in case you hadn't noticed!"

He rested his forehead on the palm of his hand and closed his eyes. Silence fell on the room again. Harry was sure that the others were exchanging noiseless gestures and expressions, but he didn't care. Couldn't they tell he was tired and hurt? Couldn't they understand that he felt so numb everywhere that he could hardly think straight?

"Harry," Hermione spoke up timidly, "do you think that it would be a good idea to let your mum and dad know what's going on? With V-Voldemort, I mean, and everything so that they know..."

Harry sighed heavily, suppressing a groan. The thought of more talk, more explanation when his head was already spinning with the incredible events of the day was enough to feel as though his brain could start seeping out of his ears anytime, but he knew she was right. They had no idea what kind of power Voldemort had, nor how Harry had survived the attack fifteen years ago. He took another deep breath and nodded, looking up at Lily and James, who were watching him anxiously.

"Yeah, all right," he mumbled, rearranging himself in his chair. Addressing his parents, he said, "After you - died, Voldemort tried to kill me too. Except it didn't work. The curse rebounded, and hit Voldemort. Dumbledore said it's because Mum died for me. Her protection saved me."

Lily and James both looked shocked.

"I - I had no idea that would happen!" Lily said. "Of course, your dad and I would both gladly die for you, Harry, but I never thought that it would actually save you..."

"Right," Harry mumbled, feeling uncomfortable. What was he supposed to say? Should he thank them? Was he supposed to somehow make it up to them? They had both willingly died to save him, and yet here they were, as confused and lost as he was. Harry opened his mouth, but found that a burning sensation in his throat prevented him from speaking. Hermione, seeming to understand, gripped Harry's arm and continued for him.

"When the curse rebounded, Voldemort lost his body. I'm not sure exactly why he didn't die; it seems that he managed to create some sort of defense to stop himself from dying. But the point is, he lost all of his power and was forced to flee as some sort of spirit."

"He stayed hidden in some forest in Albania for ten years," Harry resumed, feeling a little better. "And then he tried to get the Sorcerer's Stone."

Lily actually gasped, and James looked horrified, but neither spoke.

"But he failed," Harry said. "He was stopped, and had to go into hiding again. But two years ago, he managed to find some followers who helped him regain his body and all of his strength. At first, the Minister of Magic didn't believe -"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted hesitantly. "Don't you think you're leaving a few things out?"

Harry knew exactly what she was thinking, and decided to stop her before she blurted something out and made the evening even worse than it needed to be.

"No," he said flatly, turning and glaring at her. "It can wait. They don't need to know every little detail yet -"

"Little detail?" cried Hermione. "Harry, you know better than to think that it's not important!"

"Hermione, please," Harry said, begging now. "_It can wait_. Right now, they only need to know where Voldemort stands and a tiny bit about how it happened. Everything else -"

"No, Harry," Hermione said firmly. "I'm sorry, I know you're going to be angry, but they do need to know. Now."

Harry opened his mouth to argue further, but Hermione turned to Lily and James, ignoring Harry and speaking quickly.

"M-Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, Harry isn't telling you that when Voldemort tried to get to the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry was the one who stopped him, and delayed his return. And when Voldemort truly got his body back, Harry was there. Voldemort killed another student, but Harry fought him and escaped. He even risked his life to bring back the other student's body for his family."

"It wasn't like that!" Harry shouted. "You know it wasn't, you're trying to make me out to be some kind of hero! You think Cedric died because he was _- _what, _weaker_ than me? I only survived because Voldemort wanted me alive for a few extra minutes! And as you so kindly pointed out a few months ago, my _crazy_ desire to save people can do just as much harm as good!"

"You're blowing this out of proportion," Hermione said calmly.

"_Blowing _-" At these words, Harry lost control of his temper completely and jumped up from his chair, forgetting about his broken bone. Spots filled his vision as a tremendous jolt of pain shot all the way from his fingertips to his collarbone. Harry cried out and then sat back down, hard.


	3. Stags and Sorrow

**A/N: I want to say thank you to any who have come back to read more, and as always, I'm grateful for feedback. Please keep reviewing and letting me know how I'm doing - I hope that you readers enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it!**

Chapter Three

Stags and Sorrow

"I'm _fine_." Harry blinked the spots from his eyes, gritting his teeth. His mother's face slowly came into view, looking concerned. Glancing at his father, who hadn't moved from his chair, Harry realized that James looked as though his head were about to explode.

"My son defeated Voldemort twice, and escaped him yet another time?" James asked incredulously.

"Escaped him _two_ more times, actually," Ron corrected him. Harry glared at him, but Ron merely shrugged and said, "Hermione's right, mate. They need to know."

"You've suffered broken bones before, and probably even worse injuries?" James continued. "And that's only tidbits of the whole story, casually mentioned? How much more _is _there?"

"Listen, someone's coming," Harry told Lily. "My arm will be healed up in a moment."

A few seconds later, two people entered the room: a wizard, looking gray and tired, with heavily patched robes, and a red-haired, plump witch.

"Remus!" James shouted, jumping to his feet.

"James." Remus Lupin strode across the room and hugged his old friend tightly. "At first, I thought Dumbledore was telling us some kind of joke... but he's never led us astray before. And it's you, I can tell from your eyes."

James hugged him back. "You've no idea how good it is to see your face!"

They let go, and then Remus hugged Lily.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said to Ron's mother, who was still hovering near the door. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, dear," Mrs. Weasley murmured, coming over to him. "I can fix your arm for you, it'll only take a minute. Dumbledore should have let me fix it the moment you got here, but - "

"It's all right," Harry mumbled, still feeling dizzy.

Mrs. Weasley slowly moved her wand up and down the length of Harry's forearm, murmuring quietly. Harry could feel the pieces of bone gently repositioning themselves until they were back in place, and then, with a light tap of her wand, Mrs. Weasley fused the pieces back together. Gingerly, Harry stretched out his arm and bent his elbow a few times. The pain was entirely gone.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, and when he stood up, Mrs. Weasley embraced him quickly.

"We should get downstairs," she said after releasing him. Harry could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes for a moment, but before he could be sure, she turned away and headed for the door. "Dumbledore wants everyone to meet in the kitchen now, you know, to see..."

"Wait," James said. "Before we go, there's one more thing I'd like to know, Harry. How were you so sure that it was really me after seeing my Animagus form? You never did explain."

"My Patronus takes the form of a stag," Harry said. "The same exact stag that you become."

"Really? Can I see?" James asked excitedly.

"In a moment," Remus hinted. "Actually, I think Dumbledore intends for Harry to perform the charm in front of everyone."

The seven of them made their way out of the room. Harry was almost out when Remus called from behind, "Harry, a quick word, please."

Remus waited until the others were out of earshot before speaking again.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm here," he said gently, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You've had an incredible shock today and I imagine that you want nothing more right now than to go lie down somewhere. But if you ever need help with anything - anything at all - I hope you'll come to me."

"Sirius," Harry blurted out. He hadn't dared to say a word yet, but alone with Remus, he felt that it was the only chance he would get to address his growing apprehension. "They don't know yet. About what happened. I think my dad's probably guessed that this is his house, but... he'll want to know where he is."

"I can tell them, Harry, you don't have to -"

"No, I should do it," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "After all, so much of what happened was my fault. I was just wondering if maybe... you'd be there when I tell them?"

"Of course. But Harry, none of that was your fault, you know that."

Harry left without answering.

The others had been waiting for them outside the kitchen door. Remus took his place next to Mrs. Weasley, and Harry fell in at the back beside Ron and Hermione. As a large group, they entered the kitchen. Harry heard several gasps and then absolute silence when Lily and James passed through the door. Glancing around, Harry realized he'd never seen the kitchen at Grimmauld Place as full as it was that night - it seemed to him that nearly every Order member he'd met was present, including all of Ron's family except Ginny and Percy, Mad-Eye Moody and Nymphadora Tonks, and even Professor McGonagall, his Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher.

"At last we are all together," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence. "I think it would be best if we allowed everyone to see the likeness between Harry's Patronus and James's Animagus form. James, if you would transform, please..."

"Sir, doesn't it matter that I'm doing underage magic?" Harry asked, ignoring the sounds of several more sharp intakes of breath as his father turned into a stag.

"I think you'll find that the Ministry is more than willing to make a few allowances for you, Harry," Dumbledore told him, his eyes twinkling. "And as I told you a few months ago, while you're here, the Ministry will not know. As your Headmaster, I give you my - er - official permission, just this once."

"Right," said Harry, grinning a little. He pulled out his wand, and thought, _something happy..._ He didn't need to look far. Harry didn't think that the type of ecstasy he felt when he saw his father's Animagus form for the first time could measure up to any other happy memories he had. "Expecto Patronum!"

A huge silvery-white stag burst from the tip of his wand, cantered around the room once, and then came to rest next to James. For several seconds it remained there, motionless, while the wizards and witches in the room leaned forward, craning their necks to compare the two figures. They were completely identical in every way. Then Harry's Patronus vanished and James transformed back to his normal state.

"Did you see, Lily? It was exactly the same!" James said excitedly. There was some chuckling throughout the room.

"Yes, I saw," said Lily, looking impressed as well as amused. "Harry, when did you learn to do a Patronus Charm? That's a powerful spell, and to have such a clear shape like that..."

"Remus taught me, in my third year," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable with so many people listening in.

"You were _thirteen_? Why on earth - "

"I can tell you later," Harry muttered, feeling more awkward still.

"Yes, at the moment, I think several people would like to ask you some questions," Remus said to Lily.

As various members of the Order began to pelt James and Lily with inquiries, Harry found a bit of wall to lean against and closed his eyes.

He tried listening for a few minutes. but no one seemed to be getting any important information he hadn't already heard from his parents, and his attention soon began to waver. How was he supposed to break it to James that his best friend was dead? Harry felt that he should be celebrating, but he couldn't stop worrying about what his father's reaction would be.

Opening his eyes, Harry noticed that Hermione appeared to be deeply absorbed in the conversation. _Probably memorizing every word_, Harry thought, torn between irritation and amusement with her. Ron, on the other hand, looked very bored and was fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Harry tried again to focus on the conversation. Hestia Jones was asking his parents something about their will... Harry lost his concentration when his eyes found Lily and James again. After all these years of being absolutely certain that they were dead, and yearning to know what they would say to him if they could, here they were. Hungrily, he stared intently at them, surprised at how closely his father's face resembled his, even after seeing photographs and years of people telling him so. He also couldn't stop watching the way his mother's green eyes - his eyes - widened and narrowed while she spoke, the way her hair wavy hair fell across her shoulders and bounced gently as she turned her head. He took it all in, gazing at them as if he'd never get to do so again.

Some part of Harry still insisted that it was impossible, and that he must be dreaming. But mostly Harry had accepted that they were back, though he couldn't fathom how it had happened. Hadn't Dumbledore specifically told him that no spell could truly reawaken the dead? Surely Dumbledore would know, if something like this were possible, but he seemed as baffled as everyone else. Harry felt as though finding as answer was hopeless. Normally, in this type of situation, he would turn to Dumbledore, who always seemed to know everything...

"Now then," Moody said loudly, clapping his hands and pulling Harry away from his thoughts. The Order had finished questioning Lily and James. "An update on Voldemort, I think, before Potter explodes?" He pointed a gnarled finger at Harry, who suddenly felt very silly. For a few minutes, he'd actually forgotten completely about Voldemort, as he hadn't been able to for at least the past year.

"Yeah, what's he - er - doing now?" Harry asked.

"The information at the present time indicates that Voldemort has been lately been working on a new kind of weapon," Dumbledore said.

"Another one?" Ron blurted out, looking apprehensive. Harry didn't blame him - he couldn't bear the thought of another weapon like the last one had been; one prophecy was bad enough.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "A different sort of weapon altogether, this time. Unfortunately, we have no clues as to what it is. Whatever Voldemort has been working on has been his project alone; he refuses to trust any of his followers with knowledge about it. In the meantime, all of the dementors have given him their allegiance, and he provides them with a steady stream of wizards, witches, and Muggles to feast on... only those whom aren't killed immediately, or believed to hold useful information, of course."

"He's in control of Azkaban, then?" Harry asked, shuddering.

"Yes. I think that will do for now," Dumbledore finished.

"It's time for dinner," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "Albus, stay, won't you?"

"I'm afraid I can't, Molly," said Dumbledore with a kind smile. "I have to return to Hogwarts."

Most of the other Order members left as well, having their own families to go home to. Finally the only ones left were the Weasleys, Remus, the Potters, Moody, Tonks, and a few others that Harry barely knew, including Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance. Mrs. Weasley began to bustle about the kitchen, giving orders to those standing around.

"Fred, go and fetch Ginny, would you, she's probably throwing fits about being left upstairs alone - No, Tonks, dear, those pots go on this side - "

"No word from Percy?" Harry asked Ron quietly. Ron shook his head.

"No, Mum and Dad were really hoping he'd come around now that everyone knows about You-Know-Who, but no one's heard a peep from him - Dad says he hasn't even seen him at the Ministry since it all happened."

"Harry, I'm sorry, I know you're tired, but we're dying to know more," Lily called to him from where she and James had sat down at the table. "Tell us about how you learned the Patronus Charm."

Sighing, Harry went over and sat down across from them. Ron and Hermione placed themselves on either side of him.

"In my third year, Remus came to Hogwarts and taught Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry began, and then hesitated. How could he explain about the dementors without talking about Sirius? He decided to simply avoid that part of the story. "That year there were dementors at Hogwarts, and -"

"Dementors at _Hogwarts_?" James repeated, looking aghast. "Why in the name of Merlin were they there? How could anyone focus on classes?"

"Dumbledore wouldn't let them inside the castle grounds," Harry said, preferring not the answer the other question and speaking quickly to avoid getting interrupted again. "But anyway, they got near me a couple of times and I always - I always fainted when they got too close. Once, they came to a Quidditch match, and I fell off my broom, from fifty feet in the air - "

Lily and James both gasped.

" - so I talked Remus into teaching me how to fight them. It took a long while for me to get it right, but I did, eventually."

"So you've used it on dementors, and driven them away?" Lily asked, looking even more impressed.

"He certainly has." Remus had come up behind Harry, and was smiling. "In fact, at the end of that same year, Harry drove away about a hundred dementors by himself."

"I had to!" Harry protested. "And anyway, if we hadn't used the Time-Turner, I never would have been able to, they nearly got me the first time, by the lake."

"The Time-Turner," James repeated, sounding rather faint.

"But Harry, you never said what dementors were doing at Hogwarts in the first place - " Lily began, but Harry was saved from answering her by Ginny, who had just returned to the kitchen with Fred.

"Hello, Harry! I wondered what was going on, I heard you all go downstairs... Fred tried telling me some stupid story about your parents - _It's true?_" She gasped and froze, staring.

"Maybe that'll teach you to not to call me a lying git next time," Fred told his sister sternly, before winking at Harry and going to help his mother.

"It's true," Harry said to Ginny. "No one knows how, but it is."

"Ginny, I need you to set the table, dinner's nearly ready," Mrs. Weasley called from across the kitchen.

"Harry, I've been thinking, this house - isn't it Sirius's old place?" James said suddenly.

"Yes, yes it is," Harry said quietly.

"Where is he? After you, he and Remus are the first people I wanted to see, but - "

Just then, though, Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks brought several dishes of food to the table, and James stopped. For several minutes, there was a lot of confusion while all of the food was placed onto the table and everyone struggled to finds seats without bumping into each other. Lupin sat between James and Mr. Weasley, and began a loud discussion on the Ministry's list of recommended ways for protection against Voldemort that they had recently printed in the Daily Prophet. James listened closely, and when he was looking at his plate, Remus quickly winked at Harry, who smiled gratefully in return. Looking away, though, Harry briefly met his mother's eyes and realized that she had been watching the whole thing with a slight frown. She said nothing, however, and ate in silence.

"Harry, what do you think of this color?" Tonks said from a few seats away.

Glancing over, Harry saw that Tonks had changed her hair color from her favorite bubble-gum pink to an almost painfully bright yellow. It was rather like looking directly at the sun on a cloudless day.

"It's very - er - cheerful, Tonks."

"Do you think I could pass as a blond in the Muggle world?" she asked him eagerly. "I mean, I know it's a bit bright, but they have all shades of blond - "

"I've never seen a Muggle hair color quite like that," Harry said, not wanting to lie.

Looking disappointed, Tonks frowned for a moment, and her hair changed suddenly to a fire engine red. "I think I like this better, anyway... "

"A Metamorphmagus?" Lily asked, interested.

Harry felt a sudden, searing pain shoot through his scar as though someone had pressed a hot wire to his forehead. Harry's scar had continued to twinge throughout the summer, as it had for the past year, and it still gave him particular pain whenever Voldemort experienced a strong emotion. Harry was mostly used to the small stings, which had been occurring all day, but this one hurt so much that he couldn't help putting a hand to it and wincing, while at the same time he felt a brief, inexpressible fury.

"What is it?" Lily asked him at once.

"It's - it's nothing," said Harry, putting his hand down and hoping that no one else had noticed. Ron and Hermione were watching him warily.

"Is it You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, clearly oblivious to Harry's desire for discretion. "What's going on?"

"It's _nothing_," Harry said firmly. "Hermione, you don't know when our exam results are going to come, do you?"

It was a question that Harry regretted having to ask, but he was hoping that it would distract Hermione, and any others who had been paying attention from his scar. It worked.

"Oh, no, I'm so worried! Professor McGonagall said that it would probably be mid-July, and it's nearly that now, I _was_ hoping they'd come early. I'm sure I did well in Arithmancy, but after those translations that I confused in Ancient Runes, I'll be lucky to pass, and in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I messed up that practical bit... "

She continued in this vein for at least ten minutes, and by the time Hermione finished her panicky speech, no one was paying them any attention whatsoever. Harry made some forced conversation with a few of the Order members, but mostly he kept quiet, watching everyone carefully and trying to figure out how he was going to get through the rest of the evening. Despite his worries, though, he couldn't help noticing that Mrs. Weasley was much quieter than usual as well.

Finally, after three helpings of dessert (which Mrs. Weasley had dished onto Harry's plate without a word), several of the adults cleaned up the kitchen, and the Order members except for the Weasleys and Remus departed.

"Molly, there's more that we need to discuss tonight," Remus said. "It would probably be easiest to do it here."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Out," she ordered her children. "Upstairs, go on..."

"You don't have to stay," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, who were watching him uncertainly. "I don't think you'll learn anything new."

Soon only Harry, Remus, Lily, and James were left in the room. For a few minutes they sat in silence, until suddenly Lily said, "Out with it, whatever it is. I let you avoid us all through dinner, Harry, now just say it."

Harry took a deep breath. "Sirius - " he began, but something stuck in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. "See, there's this veil thing, in the Department of Mysteries, it looks like you could walk right through it, but you can't - " Harry had to stop again. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest, and his hands were shaking. Remus squeezed his shoulder tightly from behind. The pressure calmed him slightly, and Harry finally said, "Sirius was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange a month and a half ago."

Lily grabbed James's arm with one hand, while her other hand shot to her mouth. James just stared at Harry, his eyes wide and horrified.

"He - he's dead?"

Harry nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Remus was still squeezing his shoulder tightly.

"Why - how - ?" was all that James managed to say. A few tears spilled from Lily's eyes.

"Sirius was on Order business," Remus told him gently. "It came down to a duel with several Death Eaters, and it just happened."

"It wasn't just Order business," Harry said, his voice very low. "Sirius came because of me. I'm so sorry - it was all my fault, I led all those people there, I made him come - he was your best friend - "

"Harry, no, it was _not_ your fault. Look at me. No one can foresee something like that, no one!" Remus stared into Harry's face as though hoping his gaze could change Harry's mind.

"It _was_ my fault," said Harry. "_Everyone _warned me that Voldemort would try to trick me, that he would plant something false in my mind, but no, I was so sure I was right - "

"You can't blame yourself for what happened!" Remus insisted.

Harry, about to argue his point further, paused when he glanced at his parents. They were clutching each others' arms as though afraid of losing one another; there were tears on both of their faces now, and they were looking back and forth from Remus to Harry as though expecting a duel to break out.

Before anyone could say anything else, though, a colossal BOOM sounded from outside, one which made the windows rattle as the house shook. Harry didn't stop to think - he knew only that is he hesitated, he'd never get to see what had happened because he wouldn't be allowed to go outside.

"_No, _Harry!" Remus shouted from behind him, but Harry ran from the room as quickly as he could, speeding up the stairs and down the hall to the front door, ignoring the shrieks coming from the portrait of Mrs. Black as well as the thumps and shouts from upstairs. He paused for just a moment after throwing open the door, knowing that his parents and Remus were only seconds behind him, and observed two things. The first was that the Muggles had not heard or felt anything: there were few lights on in the houses that Harry could see from where he stood, and the area was now just as quiet as it was on any other night. The second was a lone, dark shape in the center of the grassy area which stood opposite Grimmauld Place. In the light of the streetlamps, Harry could just make out a tangle of long, black hair and the outline of a familiar face.

Then Harry was running again, even faster than he had been before. Some part of Harry's brain knew he was being stupid, running out into the open, but he didn't care. He didn't know whether he was excited or terrified, only that his heart was beating so loudly he was sure the whole neighborhood would hear. Eventually, after what seemed like ages, Harry reached the heart of the grassy area, not even hearing the shouting and arguing coming from behind him. He looked down at his feet, at the figure, at the unmistakeable face.

The body of Sirius Black lay motionless on the ground.


	4. The Final One

Chapter Four

The Final One

"Harry, you can't be out here, you've got to go back inside!" Remus had caught up to him.

Harry dropped to his knees, grabbed Sirius's arm, and shook him. After what Harry had seen today, he was sure Sirius had to be alive. Why else would his body appear?

"Harry, you don't want to see this," said Arthur Weasley over Harry's right shoulder. "Go back inside, let us take care of it…"

Harry glanced up at the others standing behind him. He could tell by their somber expressions that they all believed that this was only Sirius's body, that he was dead. Harry looked back at the house, where Lily and James were standing just inside the open front door, looking terrified. They'd clearly been ordered to stay in. Bill Weasley was hurrying across the grassy area toward the group of wizards and witches standing around the body.

"I've sent a message to Dumbledore, he should be here soon," he said breathlessly. "What – what are you doing?"

Harry looked back at Sirius's bloodless face, trying to think with his numb brain. His parents were back. Surely that meant Sirius could be back too? However, Sirius's body still hadn't moved.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley said urgently. "You've got to go inside! I don't know how his body got here, but we've to get it and everyone out of sight before –"

He stopped, and Harry felt his heart nearly stop too, as Sirius's arm moved slightly in his grasp.

"Sirius!" Harry said loudly, shaking the body again. "_Sirius_!"

"Harry, for heaven's sake, be quiet –" Mr. Weasley stopped again, because this time Sirius's eyes had opened.

"Harry?" Sirius said blearily. "What's going on?"

"I have no idea," Harry replied, feeling dizzy again.

Once again, Harry felt a spreading numbness throughout his entire body and mind. After sixteen years of being certain of his parents' deaths, they had suddenly reappeared, apparently whole and healthy. He had managed to accept that, in a way. But Sirius had only been gone for a couple of months, and before this moment, Harry had not been able to think of Sirius without experiencing an unpleasant jolt of remorse and grief; yet he was here as well, looking up at Harry as though awakening from a strange dream. In some ways, it was even harder to believe than seeing his parents again, because the pain of his death was still so near and intense.

"I died," said Sirius, frowning. "Didn't I? We were at the Ministry, and I fell through the veil. How can this be?"

"No one has any answers," Harry said quietly. "Can you stand up? We should go inside."

As Harry tried to get to his feet, his scar seared again, much more painfully than it had at dinner. With an involuntary shout of pain, Harry feel back down to his knees, pressing both hands to his face and squeezing his eyes shut. Immediately, Harry could see an image, as if it had been waiting on the backs of his eyelids. Voldemort was standing in what appeared to be a dark, stone room which was lit only by a fire under a large cauldron in the center. Two other people knelt in front of Voldemort, completely covered in hooded black cloaks.

The picture immediately began to blur and fade, but Harry could still hear Voldemort's high, cold voice.

"_The final one has arrived. They will test it, and then it will be perfectly placed to begin the plan. Soon we will know…_"

"Harry!"

The pain receded slightly, and Harry was able to get to his feet, blinking. Remus and Sirius were both standing very close to him; all the others stood back, looking nervous. Harry stared at Sirius, who stared back. He looked real, just as Harry had last remembered him, complete with the long black hair and the shadows that had never quite left Sirius's eyes since he had gone to Azkaban. It was as though his wildest dreams had come true. Could it be possible?

"Are you all right?" asked Remus, placing a hand on Harry's arm.

With a jolt, Voldemort's words rushed through Harry's thoughts again. _It has arrived_… Could it be coincidence that Voldemort had suddenly been feeling pleased about an arrival just as Sirius came back? What was more, it seemed to Harry that the noise which had brought them outside should have been heard by wizards and witches for miles around. Where were they? Where were the Death Eaters? Was this entire experience a giant trap laid by Voldemort to get to Harry? It was too much to bear. Feeling very sick, Harry turned and strode toward the house without speaking to anyone.

Harry barely heard the murmuring behind him as everyone followed him back inside. He didn't realize that his parents weren't in the doorway anymore. Harry didn't look around or speak until he reached the kitchen again, where he spun around to face everyone who had entered behind him.

Breathing heavily, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it as Sirius's chest.

"What are you doing?" Remus cried in surprise.

"Harry, don't!" Bill said. "Just stay calm. We'll sort this out."

Harry didn't move. James and Lily slipped into the room behind everyone else. A moment later, they were followed by Dumbledore, who had apparently just arrived. Dumbledore gently nudged his way to the front of the group.

"Stop him, Dumbledore!" urged Fred Weasley. A few of the others made noises of assent, but Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them, and looked at Harry with a familiar, piercing gaze. The he nodded slightly.

"When I was thirteen, how exactly did you escape from Hogwarts?" Harry growled at Sirius.

"Harry, please – "

"Answer me!"

"You and Hermione flew up on a hippogriff, Buckbeak, to the window of the room where I was being held. You two got off on the roof and I flew away with Buckbeak."

"And what did you say to me before you left?" Harry continued determinedly, pretending not to notice the way his wand hand was shaking. "Just before you flew away, _what did you say_?"

Sirius stared at him. "I told you… I told you that you are truly your father's son."

Over Sirius's shoulder, Harry saw James wipe his eyes. Other Order of the Phoenix members were slipping into the room now, apparently summoned from their homes. Harry dropped his arm, feeling shocked in spite of himself, and almost instantly found himself being squeezed tightly.

"I don't know what's going on," said Sirius quietly into Harry's ear. "But we're going to figure it out, and I'm grateful to be here with you, no matter what."

Harry just nodded, unable to speak, his own eyes burning. He then gently pushed Sirius away.

"There's something else you need to know, then, right away. Look behind you."

Looking confused, Sirius turned slowly, his eyes searching the still-growing crowd of people, until he spotted Harry's mother and father. For a split second, he froze, his body tense, and the little color that had been growing in his face drained. Then Sirius began to rapidly back away, knocking Harry aside and not stopping until his back and crashed audibly against the pantry door.

"What is this?" he burst out, his voice hoarse and uneven. "What are you doing to me?"

"It's okay," Harry said quietly, approaching Sirius slowly. "I know it's unbelievable, but so is you being here, and you are."

Sirius didn't speak for a moment. Then he suddenly stiffened and scowled at Harry.

"You made me think that I wasn't dead!" he accused.

"W-what?" asked Harry, taken completely aback.

"Outside, you made me think that I hadn't really died! I've been dead all along! What… all of you here died, too? Oh, Harry – Remus, Albus – I'm so sorry…" Sirius trailed off, now looking horrified.

"No!" said Harry quickly, understanding at last. "No, Sirius, none of us are dead. You're not dead. Not anymore, at least," he added, feeling a wild, nearly irresistible urge to laugh. He glanced at Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling.

Sirius shook his head. "This isn't possible. People don't come back from the dead."

"We've been saying that all day, Sirius, we know, we've no way of explaining it. But here you are."

"Sirius," James spoke up. Harry noticed that James's cheeks were still wet. "Sirius, it's me. When we first met on the train to Hogwarts, I nearly threw a pumpkin pasty in your face when I heard you last name was Black, but then you said you hated your whole family and that you wanted to be in Gryffindor, that it would make them all furious. And a week later, when you caught me sneaking into Minerva McGonagall's office, you distracted Nearly-Headless Nick for me. She never found out that I mixed some Essence of Euphoria powder in with her tea leaves –"

"You did _what_?!" a voice exclaimed from the back of the crowd. Apparently Professor McGonagall had arrived since James had last checked. Harry could see Fred shaking with silent laughter, while George covered a broad grin with his hand.

"Oops – sorry, Minerva, didn't see you there," said James sheepishly. "Anyway, Sirius, the point is, we're both here, and we're both really alive."

Finally, Sirius stepped forward, his eyes bright, and he and James embraced like brothers. Sirius then hugged Lily, too, and then suddenly everyone in the kitchen seemed to crowd in toward them, each one trying to get a word in with Sirius. Harry hung back, watching them all, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"This has been quite a day," Dumbledore murmured, smiling. "Not one, but three instances which defy magical law – quite what we needed, I think, to keep our minds busy."

"Sir?"

Harry was very happy that Lily, James, and Sirius were there, but he could not think of a time in which he was less in need of more to think about.

Dumbledore's smile broadened. "Come, Harry, let us not waste a good reason to celebrate! Today's events, while baffling, at least add a puzzle which will give us all hope. Allow yourself to be happy about it."

Harry could think of nothing to say. He watched while Sirius shook hands with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Harry, I think it would be a good idea for you to attend a portion of the Order of the Phoenix meetings," Dumbledore continued casually, as if telling Harry about the predicted weather for the next day.

Harry blinked.

"Really?"

"Of course, you are still underage, and you should not expect to be involved in any kind of action. But Harry, you are more closely connected with Voldemort than anyone else in this world. It is only fitting that you are told what we know, and what we are trying to do to keep as many people safe as possible. I think we will wait for a couple of weeks until you have all settled in again here, and then you can begin attending some parts of the meetings."

Without waiting for a response, Dumbledore clapped his hands loudly and waved for attention.

"Clearly, we are all thrilled to have Lily, James, and Sirius with us again, despite the surprise and inexplicability," he said. "In fact, I cannot think of a time in which I have been more amazed – or more joyful."

He paused, beaming, and surveyed all those looking back at him. Nearly every face was beaming back at him, and several were weeping openly.

"However, Sirius's return will change our interpretation of today's events, and I think we will have plenty to discuss tonight. In that case, Harry, I think it's best that you go up to bed."

Harry looked first and his mother and father, and then at Sirius. He was a little afraid to leave the room. Part of him thought that if he left, he would wake up to find it all a dream.

Sirius seemed to understand at once. He quickly whispered to Lily and James, and then, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, steered him out onto the stairs which led to the kitchen, with Lily and James following.

"Harry –" he began, speaking in a very low voice. Instead of continuing, though, he grabbed Harry's shoulders and pulled him into a very tight hug again. He didn't let go for nearly a minute, and then Sirius rubbed his eyes and sighed.

"Harry," he started again, "I wish we had time, right now, to talk and spend time together. Quite honestly, I don't feel like letting you out of my sight for the next fifty years. But you've got to understand, this is really, really important. We have to try to figure out what happened, because nothing like this has ever happened in any recorded history. We've got to do this tonight. Tomorrow, we can all talk as much as you like, all right? I swear."

Harry nodded, though he had a knot of fear in his stomach.

"Right," he said. His heart was beating in his chest, but he took a deep breath and said, "Goodnight, then."

Lily and James each hugged him then, too, and the three of them went back into the kitchen, leaving Harry on the dark stairwell, staring at the light coming from the crack under the door. He turned, slowly, and made his way up the room he shared with Ron the previous year. He could hear whispering coming from inside, so he paused outside the door, but he couldn't make out any of the words.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all jumped up from their seats on the two beds when they saw Harry.

"What happened?" said Ginny at once.

"That noise – what in Merlin's name –"

"Was it an attack?"

"Harry – are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"What happened?" Ginny repeated.

"Sirius," Harry said numbly. "Sirius is back, too."

No one spoke for a few seconds. Then they all spoke at once again.

"You're joking –"

"Impossible –"

"That's not funny –"

"I'm not joking," Harry said impatiently. "Sirius came back, just like my parents did. He's down in the kitchen."

Silence fell again. The others all stared at Harry blankly. Feeling uncomfortable, Harry glanced around the room. The empty portrait was still hanging over the bed he had slept in last year, and Hedwig's cage rested empty on top of the wardrobe. His trunk had been placed neatly at the end of the bed.

Finally, as if unsure of Harry's sanity, Ron asked carefully, "Are you sure, mate?"

"Yes," said Harry shortly.

"I believe you," Ginny said. A grin spread slowly across her face. Harry's annoyance vanished, and he grinned, too.

"We have to go see," whispered Hermione.

Harry began to tell them not to, because the Order was meeting, but stopped himself. How could he ask them to just believe without seeing? What was more, how could he tell them that Sirius had risen from the dead, and expect them to not even say hello?

"Go on," he said. The three of them rushed from the room and he listened to their footsteps thumping on the staircase in their hurry. A foggy voice in Harry's mind mused that they were lucky not to have woken the portrait of Sirius's mother.

Harry lay down on his bed, sighing. It was nearly midnight now, and this was the first time he'd been alone since earlier than day at the Dursleys'. That afternoon felt like weeks ago. He was just closing his eyes and beginning to enjoy the silence, trying to empty his mind, when a voice spoke, startling him.

"Is it true? He's really back?"

Harry had forgotten about the portrait above his bed. Phineas Nigellus had appeared, visiting from his other portrait, and was peering down at Harry.

"Yes, he is," said Harry with another sigh. "Go down and see, if you want to."

Without another word, Phineas Nigellus strode sideways out of the frame, disappearing.

"You're welcome," Harry said grumpily to the now empty portrait.

On a sudden urge, he went to his trunk and shoved aside parchment and books until he found the photo album that Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year at Hogwarts. He flipped through to his favorite picture of his parents' wedding day: the one with Lily, James, and Sirius all beaming and waving. That picture had always felt to him like a dream. He stared at it for several minutes, until he heard footsteps on the stairs again. He put the album back into his trunk and sat down just as Ron, Ginny, and Hermione burst into the room.

"Well?" Harry asked, looking expectantly at Hermione.

"Well, what?"

"_What do you think_?"

"I can still barely believe it," Hermione admitted breathlessly. "It's like Dumbledore said, Harry. Nothing even remotely close to this has ever happened before. If you'd asked me before today, I'd have said that such a thing is completely impossible, no matter what."

"But obviously, it's not," Ron pointed out. "It happened. Maybe they somehow decided to come, like ghosts—"

"Ghosts don't have bodies," said Ginny sharply, cutting him off.

"Exactly," agreed Hermione, nodding. "Wizards and witches can return as ghosts, but they only do so right after death, not years later, and they never, ever have bodies of any kind. It's only the soul that stays."

"Nearly-Headless Nick told me that they have to choose, and they can't change their mind," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "He said he was afraid to leave, so he stayed, but most people would go on… and once ghosts choose to stay, they're trapped here. I'm sure it's the same for the ones who go on."

"What do you mean, 'go on'?" Ron demanded.

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "It's what he said. He didn't know what it was like because he didn't go, he stayed."

"There's so much we don't know about death," said Hermione, sighing and rubbing her eyes. For several minutes there was silence, none of them meeting the others' eyes. Finally Ron broke it.

"Wizards can sort of –" He paused and swallowed. "—reanimate dead bodies, can't they?"

With a terrible sick feeling in his stomach, Harry imagined first his parents' lifeless bodies, then Sirius's, being lifted from the ground and made to walk, arms outstretching in front of them, like zombies in one of Dudley's favorite video games, while a hooded figure pointed a wand at them. Harry glanced at the others, who looked as though they were visualizing similar images. Ginny's brow was furrowed deeply, and Hermione looked slightly nauseated.

"Sorry," Ron muttered, looking guilty. "I know that sounds horrible, it's just – I've heard stories –"

"No, you're right," said Hermione quietly. "There are spells which can make dead bodies move and do a wizard's bidding. But you need to remember that those bodies aren't people. There's no one inside, it's just a body, an object which can be charmed or transfigured just like any other. It doesn't have thoughts or move on its own. It only does what the wizard or witch makes it do."

"Does everyone really have no idea how this could have happened?" asked Ginny. "Not even Dumbledore?"

"It looks that way."

For more than an hour, they continued to discuss it, trying different possibilities, but their conversation seemed to be circular. Every idea they came up led to the same arguments, until a red-eyed Ginny announced that she was going to bed. Hermione turned to follow, but Harry stopped her.

"There's something I need to tell you both, now," he said very quietly.

Hermione frowned and paused, listening to make sure Ginny was continuing up to the next floor. Then she nodded.

"The prophecy?" Ron said coolly.

"The prophecy _was _smashed at the Ministry of Magic," Harry said. "But Dumbledore was the one who heard it originally, so when we got back to Hogwarts, he told me what it said."

"And?"

"It… it says that I have the power to defeat Voldemort. And that one of us has got to kill the other, in the end." Harry recounted the wording of the prophecy, as well as his conversation about it with Dumbledore, as best he could to them.

"Oh, Harry," cried Hermione when he had finished. "Why didn't you tell us? Are you all right?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "I don't understand it, really. I definitely don't know how I'm supposed to be able to defeat him. But you should know. Now I've told you everything."

Ron opened his mouth as if he wanted to discuss it more, but Harry cut him off.

"I want to go to bed," he said. "I've done enough thinking for one day."

Harry didn't really expect to get any sleep that night. He lay for a long time in the dark after Hermione had left, and after Ron's snores began. Words and images from throughout the day flashed through his mind until his head was spinning again and he had to restrain himself from shouting out in frustration. He tried to calm himself by thinking of ordinary things, like cleaning his broomstick and writing his homework essays, but it was very difficult. After several hours, Harry finally began to doze off, just as the sky began to lighten with daybreak. The last thing he remembered before drifting to sleep was hearing Phineas Nigellus shuffle back into his portrait, sniff loudly, and grumble, "So much for unbreakable magical laws. My nephew does what he likes, as usual." Somehow, though, Harry thought that he sounded quite pleased.


End file.
